


Tattoo Wings and Taco Pie

by passmethesouls



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, M/M, domestic abuse, much angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passmethesouls/pseuds/passmethesouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean Winchester desperately search for Castiel. After the angels fell, Castiel went MIA for five years before Dean randomly happened upon him in a small town the boys were searching. During this time, Dean's alcoholism got worse, Sam is falling in love with a not-so-good person, and Cas got a bunch of life experience (and tattoos). Eventually things get close between the graceless angel and the drunk hunter. Dean struggles to understand his feelings and the two work things out in a slow process at the same time Dean struggles with his alcoholism. {My first fic I'm so sorry}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Dean cursed. How is it possible that people are actually walking around in short sleeve shirts and shorts without any weather protection? The rain is falling pretty damn hard and the wind is slapping him in his face. These people are insane, he observes while he crosses the road, holding the briefcase over his head in a failed attempt to keep his hair perfect. He can hear the faint sound of his phone ringing from inside his suit pocket, but it’s hard to tell with the weather being as loud as a motherfucker. Dean slips underneath a small shop roof and whips out his cell. It’s Sam calling.

“What’ve you got?” Dean yelled into the speaker.

“Wow, dude. I can actually hear the rain falling.” Dean could barely hear him.

“It’s horrible, Sammy. Get me out of here.” A couple wearing shorts and rain boots giggle past him. “I hate Washington.” He sighed “Tell me you’ve got something.”

Sam scoffed as if he was going to say something facetious but instead he just reported his findings, “Well I talked to some more locals and they said they might have seen him, but they also said the man they saw only slightly resembled the picture we have of him.” Dean noticed his brothers’ refusal to mention the bastards name and silently thanked him for it. 

Even though they were giving everything into finding him, it’s still hard to talk about him or mention his name. What he did was downright wrong and disgraceful by Winchester standards. Maybe he's exaggerating a bit, but it was still mean. Yet even after that – and five years, Dean sadly reminds himself – they’ll still tear apart the Earth for him. 

The elder brother watched as a man who is actually shirtless in this damned weather lean against a light post and flirt - or what looks like flirting - with the short ginger woman standing in front of him. She seems to be into him but also looks a bit wary. Dean noticed the man has a wide spread tattoo of angel wings across his back. Very classic, Dean thought, rolling his eyes away to the pie shop down the road a bit. 

“Dean? Helloo?” 

Dean returned his attention to his phone. “Oh, hmm?” 

Sammy paused for a minute, probably to make a confused face, before saying, “Well anyways the woman said he had blonde hair and a goatee. Which is just….” 

“…Odd.” Dean finished for him. It seems to be an appropriate word choice for the image he’s got in his cluttered mind. 

“Yeah, well you might want to come back to the motel soon. Weather channel says there’s going to be a pretty big storm at 5.” Dean grunted in response and hung up. He’s almost to where he parked his Baby and his suit is getting dry under the small protection. 

He let out an exasperated almost-groan and bolted it from his cover to the alleyway a block away. Dean had laid out a large towel onto his seat earlier in case it started raining badly, which it had. The thought of the weather actually getting worse then this was terrifying. The people here are just plain weird for wearing clothes people would normally wear on a sunny day. As Dean slid into the Impala he had to ask himself what these people wore when it wasn’t raining. Probably nothing. 

The ride back to the motel wasn’t long, but it was devastating because halfway there the rain increased and started leaking in through the windows. Damn it all to Hell. He’s going to need a few nice cold ones when he gets to the room. Maybe more than just a few.

~~*~*~~

Sam put down his fancy touchscreen phone onto the crappy motel table and closed his laptop lid. Dean’s still being pretty sensitive. He noticed how he spaced off for a bit during the call. Did he think he saw Cas again? Hopefully he didn’t. Last time he did he didn’t sleep for a week and refused to give up on tearing apart the town trying to find him again. After he realized he didn’t really see him he was pretty depressed and didn’t speak to anyone for a while. He just wasted away by himself and stayed inside his head 85% of the time. 

Sam hates to see his older brother like that. It hurts him knowing that Dean thinks that he’s not able to help him. As if Sam isn’t suffering the consequences of what Castiel did. Sam doesn’t want to exactly confess to it but he actually misses the bastard. But that’s probably just him wishing he was back so that they could stop this insane man-hunt and make his brother happy again. Dean hasn’t smiled in three years. He suspects Dean’s been having nightmares every night but he can’t confirm or deny that since his brother only falls asleep after him and wakes up before the sun can peek through the curtains and land on Sam’s eyes. 

Sam looked out the window, leaning back on the chair so that it’s standing on only two legs. The rain was falling uncomfortably fast. If it was any faster it might shatter the window. He can’t really hear it since the couple in the next room are blasting German rock music and having what seems to be a very exciting experience in bed. 

It’s been forever since he’s even touched a woman on any part of her body other than her shoulder. 

The effects of the trials have gone away quite a bit. He has chronic headaches, his eyes are still a bit bloodshot, and he’s pretty weak still (the bruises and healing bones don’t exactly help him regain his health). After a pretty bad seizure he finally went to a hospital and it turned out there were some drugs that could simmer down the physical complications. The drugs are mostly illegal, mind you, but they work. His soul is still being purified and Dean believes he should stay "pure" inside and out. Sam’s mind still isn’t completely out of the gutter. Maybe a toe just barely under the surface of the dirty water but that’s just about it. It’s hard to have a clean mind when you’re a Winchester boy. 

The door to the motel room bursts open and a very soaked Dean stumbles in. Dean has the towel from the impala on his head, draping over his shoulders and covering some of his chest. 

“Beer” the elder commands as he toes off his soppy dress shoes, “beer, Sammy.” He throws off his suit jacket onto the bed. “Sammy, I need a beer.” 

Sam reluctantly gets up and grabs two beers from the mini fridge under the counter in the corner. That’s another problem since Cas decided to never show up. Dean’s become a really bad alcoholic. It’s worse than before all this. He’s been drinking them dry of their money on a daily basis. Almost two cases a night. Sam can’t help but think Dean’s becoming their father. Abusive and angry after he downs a few. Sam knows his protective brother doesn’t want to hurt him and always hates himself when he wakes up and realizes what he’s done. It just hurts seeing his brothers green eyes go emotionless as he beats him. Most of the time Sam's sure that Dean doesn't even see Sam and the alcohol has morphed his face into one of the many people that have hurt them over the years. Hurts more than the actual hits, really. He doesn't dare fight back more than necessary for the sake of not putting his drunken brother in the hospital again. 

Sam hands Dean, who’s sitting on the edge of his bed in a clean pair of pajama bottoms and a grey t-shirt, one of the bottles and sits in the chair across from him, watching as he pops off the cap and begins the night off with the first sip. Well, call it a sip if you like but honestly it’s more like a chug. 

With a long sigh, Sam pops off his own cap and sips the sweet liquid inside. He remembers the first beer he had and how it burned his throat and made him cough. Dean laughed and Bobby just smiled as he tried to regain his breath. Later on when he tried whiskey for the first time, he had the same effect but soon used the burning taste to help him sleep and keep the metaphorical monsters away from his dreams. 

Sam was snapped away from his thought with a loud thud as Dean’s bottle was thrown into the garbage. He watched as Dean went to the fridge and grabbed the rest of the case. He took a long sip. If he was going to survive another night he’ll need some more alcohol in his system to ease the pain to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the read! If you can, please leave a critique! I can only improve if I know what needs fixing :)


	2. 2

_A woman stands at the end of the dark hallway. Her white dress billowed in the wind as it flowed in whispers through the window. Sam stumbled closer to her, hands grasping the walls to keep him up. As he got closer the woman raised both arms out in front of her, her mouth stretched into a wide grin. Her eyes shine with happiness with a color much like an orange sun rising above snow topped mountains. Her skinny pale arms promise warmth and comfort like Sam has never known before._

_Sam smiles as he comes between her lovely limbs and wraps his around her waist. The pale woman’s cold breath brushes his neck. He can feel her smile stretch wider against his cheek as she pulls his face next to hers._

_The woman’s voice is soft like a freshly cleaned kitten as she whispers in his ear, “Sammy, I would never hurt you,” Sam felt her left arm move slightly but he didn’t care too much, “My precious baby boy, I will never. hurt. you. again." Her voice turned stern and serious. He tried to back away to see what was wrong but her arm held him against her so tightly it hurt._

_“W-What’s wrong?” her arms were so tightly bound around him that he couldn’t even move his own. Sam could feel his feet rise off the ground and the air around him drop almost 20 degrees._

_“Sammy sweetie, I could never hurt you,” Sam was able to lean his head back just enough that he could see her eyes. His breath caught as he was about to scream but a knife was thrust into his back, slicing his ribs and puncturing his lung._

Just before he woke up in a sweat he heard himself mutter the word “Mom” and see her black eyes turn back to their original beautiful green.

~~*~*~~

 

Both the Winchester boys have been having nightmares ever since Castiel ditched their asses like a vegetarian at a steak fair. For Dean it’s been dreams of failing and disappointing the people he loves and getting them killed in very brutal and agonizing ways. For Sam it’s been trusting the people he loves and being betrayed over and over again. Both aren’t that far from their long hours awake.  

 

When Dean woke up he was covered in his own sweat and the pillows were on the floor, again. He must have fallen off during the night where he tosses and tumbles. His head pounds from another pain-wrenching hangover. The elder brother stumbles up from his place between their beds, falling over multiple times and giving up to just crawl his way to the cheap motel bathroom.

 

Finally twisting the knob open he falls in and hits his head on something soft. The soft and fairly hairy thing groans and shifts at his spot beneath Dean’s heavy head. He looks up and sees something that he might have thought was funny for a second until he saw the fresh bruises on his younger brother’s face, chest and shoulders. Sam is hugging the toilet bowl like a trustworthy friend as he barfs up what looks like his entire stomach content from the past year.

 

Two knowing groans from the elder got a slow nod in response from the younger. Sammy’s eyes are glazed over with depression and a glint of fear. Dean could feel his heart dropping out of his chest and if his head didn’t hurt like hell already he swears it would be killing him right now. His hands shook as he grabbed onto the sink and pulled himself up. Being weak like this sucked. It’s always even worse when he sees in his brother’s eyes how badly he hurt him.

 

Every scrape and bruise he caused is a reminder of how horrible of a person he is. How much of a disappointment he is to his baby brother. How much he’s grown to be just like his father. A drunk and an abusive one at that.

 

He stood tall and grabbed his brother by his shoulders, pulling him up to his height (well baby brother or not he’s always going to be taller than him so). He stared into brown eyes with compassion and tried so hard to express how sorry he is with his own bright green eyes.

 

Dean wrapped his firm arms around his Sam’s broad shoulders. Sam tensed under the embrace for a few seconds, but slowly fell into it, then placed his arms on the elders’ shoulders. The hug was comforting but Dean still couldn’t forgive himself for acting the way he did again.

 

He felt Sam tense under him. “Dean, while I enjoy having these moments with you I really need to throw up again.”

 

The elder brother backed away, feeling like he needs to expel last night out of his body. “Right, um, me too” he managed before pushing Sammy out of the way and thrusting his head above the bathtub drain and barf a week worth of burgers and beer all over the tub.

 

Sam threw up into the toilet and barely gasped a “gross, man” between coughs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was short and sweet.  
> I will try to update the rest of the chapters I have written this week but I have a competition on Saturday that I have to prepare for, so I might not get all 9 updated by Friday.


	3. Three

After the two brothers got the alcohol out of their system and regained their strength and minds (they got a maid to come in and clean up their mess in the bathroom), Sam hit the internet and Dean went out on the town. Marysville is a decent town. The Golden Corral, the buffet on State Ave, is just fucking awesome. Prices are decent and the burgers are… awesome. Not as great as the Biggerson’s burgers but still pretty great. The desert bar is just as awesome. They have an assortment of great pies and other things. The only thing that kind of sucks is that it’s always packed. Dean can’t get a seat without a loud family of fucking 20 sitting right next to him.

 

Dean went out around every town they stopped at to look around and question a few locals. Usually they’d stay for a week but not any longer. It seems their trail is bouncing all over the place. Dean is positive that soon they’ll have to actually leave the states. Some tourists in Louisiana said that they saw him in France but that they couldn’t be sure since they were too far from the stage. Sam asked what they meant by stage but the couple had to leave and they never got an answer.

 

That happens a lot. Everywhere they go people say that the guy in the picture has a new tattoo or his hair color is different or he’s shirtless all the damn time. One teenage girl with ultra-brown frizzy hair and a nose stud here in Marysville said he was looking pretty damn hot and had a tattoo of wings on his back. She said he looked like he was too attractive for heaven and he was thrown down unto humanity for us to gawk at. Dean mentally agreed (damn his fucking mind to hell for finding that asshole hot) and thanked the girl for the information.

 

Today in this quaint town the weather is cloudy with a high chance of rain in the afternoon. Goddamn, it’s like the only thing Mother Nature in this part of the states can do is rain. Dean imagines it’s partly because it’s the fall time which is slowly turning into a rough winter, but damn does it ever stop?

 

Cars drive past as Dean walks along the road. He doesn’t want to take his Baby out with the headache he’s still got. He doesn’t want to risk another crash like the one he had in Texas a year ago. He had gotten piss drunk and the next morning he attempted to drive which didn’t work out since his migraine was so intense he could barely see the road. His Baby wasn’t badly damaged but the other driver was lucky to survive after being rammed into a brick wall by a muscle car driving at him at 70mph.

 

So, yeah, Dean’s walking this morning.

 

He struts slowly and observes the people passing by. Couples hold hands as they cross the street, bumping into each other laughing and having a dandy darn time. Some group of teen girls clump together, one of them being the girl he interrogated the day before. The bushy haired girl and some much shorter one have their arms entwined as they giggle with the others about something the short one said. The way the two act around each other says lovers. Maybe girlfriends? Ew, God. Teenagers in love. Bad images scroll through the brother’s dirty mind. Pervert.

 

Dean is in the process of trying to think of something less wrong like pie or finding the bastard when he bumps into someone.

 

He looks up, “Sorry, my bad,” Green eyes stare into the strangers bright blue. “Um” is all he can manage as his brain tries to process the face in front of him.

 

The man has bleach blond hair that falls into his eyes, which are just the most bluest of blues to ever blue. They’re just so familiar but the man’s goatee is confusing. Maybe if he shaved it off and left only a little stubble Dean would be able to put a name to the face. But right now his mind isn’t working. Like it’s on overdrive and no information is coming out that makes sense.

 

Dean’s mind only seems to understand that this man of divine beauty is shirtless and his eyes are pretty. ‘Pretty’ is not a word Dean would utter but it fits this dude.

 

“Oh my fucking god,” the strangers voice is deep. Something clicks in the brother’s mind. “Dean?”

 

There it is. The name to the face. It finally makes sense. “Cas?” Dean somehow asks through the clutter of words he wants to say but can’t.

 

“I’ve missed you.” the other man says, pulling the motionless hunter into a deep, probably more-than-friends hug.

 

“Uh. Me too, buddy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was really short and I'm sorry. I swear they get longer!   
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Four

Dean stared. Wow, five years can really change a man. The first thing he noticed after he backed away from the embrace was that, damn, Cas was ripped. Muscles bigger than his own stretch across his chest, taking away the attention from the strange tattoos the man has gotten. Dean immediately recognized the anti-possession tattoo near the same place his own is. Rainbow colored stars scatter from mid-upper body down underneath shorts, almost like a glittery happy trail. 

Just as Dean was about to ask about the “D” written in fancy lettering on Castiel’s shoulder when he was grabbed by the arm and lead down the road. He’ll never get over how blond his hair is. 

“Where are you taking me?” he asked. 

Cas smiled, “To this park down the road. I want to show you something.”

Dean frowned. He shouldn’t be so calm. He should be furious about how the guy ditched their asses but he just couldn’t find the words that have been stuck in his throat since day one. 

“I should call Sam. He can meet us there?” he finally got out, the last phrase sounding more like a question than a statement.

“Ah, right. How is he by the way? Last I remember he was doing pretty badly.” Cas still had that smile plastered to his face. 

“He’s been… good. Some docs gave him some drugs for a sedative a couple years back but it somehow helped him become more… normal.” Dean can’t bring himself to mention the scars and bruises on the younger because then he’d have to explain. The thought of that conversation happening made him uncomfortable.

Cas’s smile faded for a second but he quickly brought it back. “That’s great, Dean.” The hunter felt good hearing some praise, even if it was meager and probably unintentional.

Pulling out his phone he punched in Sam’s number. After a brief and aggravating conversation involving a lot of unanswered questions Sam agreed to meet the two at the park. 

They walked in silence for the remainder of the trip. When they arrived at the park, Dean noticed his Baby parked near the front and waved to Sam who was patiently leaning against the hood. 

“Hey,” Sam said when they got closer, “Um, wow. Looking… Good, Cas.” His little brother sounded really unsure of what to say and whether ‘good’ was even an appropriate word to describe how the man looked. “I brought a shirt like Dean said to.” He pulled a Led Zepplin shirt out from the driver’s window and handed it to Cas. 

“Zepplin. Awesome.” Cas grinned as he slipped the shirt on. Dean took the second where the shirt was over Cas’ head and he couldn’t see to glare at his brother for bringing one of his shirts. He might have worn that one tomorrow since the Floyd shirt he’s been wearing for a week is starting to get dirty. Now he can’t. Rude. 

“’Awesome’? Dude, since when did you start saying ‘awesome’?” He asked. Now might be the time to start discussing what the guy’s been up to the past five years and the best approach might be to ease into it. 

Cas grinned again, “Two months after I left. I was in Oregon trying to get in contact with some of my brethren and I guess it slipped out and a woman said it sounded nice with my voice. Guess it’s kind of just… stuck.” He practically beamed. Dean couldn’t disagree. It did have a nice sound rolling off his tongue. 

“So that’s what you did? When you left, I mean. Went searching for your grounded buddies?” Dean shifted so he was leaning against the Impala and facing Cas. 

Cas’ smile dropped again and he could tell it was going to get serious real quick. “Well, yeah, at first. I heard that some of my ‘buddies’ were scattered around the world and I wanted to search for them. Help them anyway I could and hopefully find some way to fix… this.” He motioned to the sky and back to himself. 

“Did you find a way?” Sam blurted, looking interested in the possibility but concerned about the chance of the answer being no. 

Cas switched the leg he was leaning on. “Well. Yes and no.” Picking up on both their confused faces he continued, “The friends I have spoken to all had different answers. One found a spell that would put things back but after performing it we discovered that it was a housekeeping spell women used way back when.” He looked deeply terrified of the memory. “Others tried to find God and even though I told them over and over that that was a pointless thing to do, they continued searching. They picked up on a trail in Hawaii that they followed but I haven’t heard from them since so I don’t know if they found him.”

They waited for him to finish but when it seemed like he wouldn’t Sam asked, “Well what about the ‘yes’? Did you or did you not find a way to fix it?” 

Dean noticed that Cas swallowed before starting. “Well, obviously not since, ya know, all the angels are still wingless. But yes, a couple of friends and I did find something close to a spell that might have worked if it wasn’t so fucking complicated to translate and required so many things spread out across the world that we can’t possibly get since we don’t have any more mojo.” 

The brothers stared. Yes, five years can definitely change a man. Not only is Cas bringing out the sass attack, but he is swearing as well. This is new… and weird. 

“Right. So what about this?” Dean asked, gesturing to all of Cas’ body.

The dude just laughed. His laugh is actually kind of adorable and Dean is glad the guy couldn’t get into his mind anymore. 

“Are you done?” He grumped. By now Sam has strolled off to the bathroom, complaining about his child’s bladder. Cas continued to breathe in short breaths to calm himself down. 

“Yeah, sorry.” Cas has still got a wide smile plastered on his face. “Sorry, it’s just a really, really long and kind of funny story. I’ll tell you all about it when we get to your motel room.” He flung his arm around Dean’s shoulders. “But right now, I need to show you something awesome.” 

Dean couldn’t help but feel good and grin at the warmth of the man next to him. Though this side of him is strange and unusual, Dean feels like this is the side he could get along with the most.

Yet, he will miss the bliss of being healed by the guy or feeling his protective wings around him when in dangerous or sticky situations. 

For now, Dean can see his future involving no more hunts or monsters or demons and just spend his days with Sam and Cas. And that is all he’s ever wanted. A nice apple pie life with a happy (and slightly dysfunctional) family.


	5. FIVE

Inside Cas’ head were fireworks. Bursting every second in strange and spectacular colors. From a brilliant blue to a radical red, each one beautiful and new. When he saw Dean for the first time in years the explosion was bright green mixed with a neon yellow, creating a wide spread blast throughout his senses. He missed him a lot.

He took Dean to the park he discovered a few days ago. For some reason, he felt like going there would be good, for the both of them. Along the way Dean called Sam and briefed him on the situation and told him to meet them at the park. Cas, admittedly, hoped they could be alone for a while but that’s not very likely with the Winchester boys.

 When they arrived at the park, Sam gave him one of Dean’s shirts. Cas noticed that Dean was not happy with that. The shirt smelled of the older brother and Cas put it on slowly and let it stay over his head a few seconds longer than normal. From the looks the brothers were exchanging they hadn’t noticed. Dean was probably glaring at Sam while Cas couldn’t see.

 Dean asked him about his appearance and he just couldn’t hold in his laughter. It truly was a very, very long story and most of it the brother’s won’t believe or want to hear about. Also, some the story was really embarrassing. Like his hair color and the huge scar on his upper thigh. Well, he could probably handle telling them about the color of his hair but the scar, not so much. He’d probably die.

 Sam eventually left for the bathroom and Dean was starting to get annoyed by how hard he was laughing, so he tried really hard to stop. It took thinking about how to explain Jimmy Novak to them to make him stop. That will not be a conversation he is looking forward to having.

 Cas stood straight, still slightly giggling. He felt bubbly now that he can think properly again. “Are you done?” Dean asked, sounding just as frustrated as he looked. His arms are crossed over his chest and his lips scrunched into an angry frown.

 He took in a deep breath before responding. “Yeah, sorry. Sorry, it’s just a really, really long and kind of funny story. I’ll tell you all about it when we get to your motel room.” Knowing the brothers like he did, he knew they would be in a motel as always and maybe there he could lead things into the way he always hoped they would. Now that he’s the only passenger, he can do what he wants with this body. Cas throws his arm over Dean’s shoulders, in a subtle attempt to show the man he is comfortable with touch now. “But right now, I need to show you something awesome.”

 Cas couldn’t help but smile as the hunter grinned at him. Dean seems so tightly knit that just that small gesture causes the fireworks to burst a dark red and shimmering orange.

 They walked down to the hill to the glistening lake. Halfway down Cas dropped his arm and let it sway millimeters from Deans. Three years ago he went to a therapist (recommended by a former angel he met in India) who explained to him that he needed to accept his feelings for the hunter and slowly show his affection by gentle touches and standing/walking close enough to feel his body heat radiate off him.

 Then he hadn’t wanted to accept his feelings so he ran away from them by binge drinking and gambling. He never thought those were dangerous when he watched humans do them but he soon realized he had a problem and ran away from them some more with more…physical addictions.

 Cas pulled Dean next to him so they’re both standing at the water’s edge, looking out at the dark lake. The rain clouds gathering above make the day seem like it’s near an end but truthfully it’s barely even past lunch.

 "So, this is what you wanted to show me?” Dean’s voice is serious and confused, and Cas can sense him tensing up again. “Doesn’t look so awesome.”

 “Oh, don’t be so critical. It’s beautiful. Well, when the suns out. Unfortunately it’s autumn so that won’t happen anytime soon.” He tried to lighten the mood by smiling up at Dean. “Honestly, it’s just… calming. The water’s surface untouched by filthy hands, left to just reflect its surroundings and project some sense of peace. I thought maybe, you know, that you’d enjoy it.”

 “How very poetic.” Cas frowned. “Oh, don’t be like that. I guess it is kind of calming, in a chick-flick kind of way.”

 The former angel grinned. Bringing any kind of peace to that battlefield of a mind is a blessing. From above or below, he did not care.

"Well, I’m glad.” Cas paused. He can still sense some tension between them. “I guess you still want some answers.”

 “Oh, really? What makes you say that?” He could physically feel Dean holding in his anger. “It’s not like you ran off without saying anything for five goddamn years, Cas.” The way Dean said his name made him flinch.

 “I have an explanation though. I have an explanation for it all. And I’m really very sorry about it. I know I should have contacted you. Now that we’re together again I feel like no time has passed at all.” Cas attempted to smile to calm the man but all that he managed was looking constipated.

 “Then give it to me! What is your excuse? What could you possibly do to make me feel better?” Dean screamed but kept his voice low to not disturb the passersby. “There is nothing you could say or do to excuse what you did.” He spat.

 Cas froze. He wanted to scream back that he was trying to fix what Metatron did. He wanted to push Dean into the water and tell him he was trying to help. But he couldn’t move at all.

 “Why five years, Cas? What could have you been doing for five years that stopped you from saying a single goddamn word to us?” Dean’s face contorted from anger to downright fucking pissed.

 “Dean, I…”

 “No. No more excuses.” Dean turned around and stomped two feet away, and then stopped. His arms flew up to his chest, probably to cross them with his hands in fists.

 “Dean, you’re not letting me say anything!”

 He kept his back to Cas but his voice was loud and clear, “Because I’m tired of your excuses!”

 “Did it even cross your mind that I might not be making excuses and that I’m truly sorry? Did you even consider that?” Cas’ chest filled with anger. Dean wasn’t listening and it really pissed him off.

 Dean still refused to turn around, and Cas saw his head fall down. “So tell me what happened. I don’t have a problem with you leaving, cause I understand why you did it and what it means to need to find your family. But what I can’t understand is that you didn’t have the balls to tell us about it.” his voice softened and it almost sounded stuffy but that could just be Cas’ imagination. “Did you think we were going to stop you?”

 Cas had to think about the best way to tell the complete truth and not hurt Dean anymore. “I.. I guess at the time I didn’t really think about it. Well, I mean I thought about telling you but I didn’t expect my little trip to take so long.” He quickly added, “I thought, you know, I’d be back a month later and I’d explain and it’d all be okay.”

 “What happened? Did you decide to just not return and go on a world tour? Did you join the circus?” Cas knew Dean was joking about the latter so he didn’t want to say that yes he had because that might just make him mad.

 “I.. I don’t know. Dean you have to understand that I really don’t know. I don’t know what went through my mind at the time ‘cause now I’m a completely different person.”

 Dean laughed, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

 Cas returned the laugh, hoping the worst was over. A moment passed and the tension lifted. 

 “You promise to tell me all about your body modifications?” He finally turned around to face Cas. His eyes were a bit puffy and red but Cas didn’t want to mention it.

 “Every last one.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one seemed a bit longer, yeah?


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has tattoos, Dean likes to stare into Cas's eyes, and Sam is annoyed by it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for not posting. Life's been hectic what with school and a slight medical scare. It'll all be okay now. Hopefully. Enjoy! :)

Sam sat on his cheap bed in the cheap motel and leaned against the headboard, his face contorted in thought. “Tattoos?” he asked Cas who is sitting cross-legged at the edge of his rickety bed. 

“Oh, like 10 of those.” Cas smiled at him. “I got this one first,” he lifted his borrowed Zepplin shirt and pointed to the anti-possession sigil on his chest, “Hurt like a bitch. Then a ‘friend’ convinced me to get this,” he trailed his finger down the starry happy trail from his mid-chest and down to the edge of his shorts. 

“But that’s only two.” Sam pointed out. 

“He’s got angel wings on his back and a D on his shoulder.” Dean interrupted. 

“That’s four then. Cas said ten.” Sam again pointed out. 

Cas shifted so his leg was visible above the sheets, “Dragon here,” he pointed to a wavy shape on his calf that barely resembled a dragon, “and I have two on my feet. There’s also prayer hands on my thigh and a pot leaf on my neck.”

Both the brothers counted on their fingers. “You’re not telling us about one!” Sam shouted, pointing a finger at Cas accusingly. 

Cas groaned, “Shit, I hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

They waited a couple of minutes for more. When they got nothing, Dean asked, “Well, what is it?”

Cas groaned again, “It’s a thing in a place I’m not exactly proud of. I technically wasn’t awake when I got it, alright?” The brothers gaped, “Could you guys just not?”

“What is it?” Dean blurted out. He quickly moved from his spot at the cheap motel table to his bed so he can get a better view of the both of them. 

“I can’t tell you!” Cas refused. “It’s for me to know and you to find out.” He gave Sam’s brother a wink. 

Sam swore he saw Dean’s cheeks redden and his mouth gape but before he could make sure his brother straightened up and thought of his comeback. 

“Thanks but no thanks, buddy.”

Sam watched with a tingle of hope as the two awkwardly stared into each other’s eyes. Most likely eye-fucking like they always have. 

Sam cleared his throat; he can only stand awkward silences for a couple of minutes until it gets just too awkward. The two quickly looked away, trying to find any object in the stuffy room to latch their eyes on. Cas went for the clock and Dean went with the fridge. 

“So, um, Cas.” The former angel turned his head around to face Sam, “You like Led Zepplin now?” 

Cas looked confused for a second before looking down to his shirt then answered, “Oh, yeah. Well, a lot of pretty good bands. Like, uh, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Sublime, Tool, Metallica, Muse, maybe some Panic! at the Disco, A Perfect Circle, um yeah stuff like that.”

“Wait, you’re listening to Metallica now?” Dean asked a little more enthusiastically than what he probably anticipated. 

“Dean, your band-boner is showing.” Sam laughed. He isn’t really a big fan of the music Dean listens to so this might be very exciting for his big brother. 

As expected, Dean glared at him. “Shut up, Samantha.” Then his brother returned his attention to Cas, who has been giggling this whole time, “How’d you get into music? I’m not complaining, I’m just curious how that happened.”

Cas sighed, “Well, I was chilling with some stoners in Nevada and they made me play Guitar Hero. I really liked the rhythm of most of them. Some were calming and helped me un-focus, others were erratic and made me want to kick some one’s ass then get some burgers. Before I left, the guys gave me some tapes and a Walkman.” He smiled to himself, “I walked for a really long time, just, blissfully listening to the music. Like there were no cares in the world and I had nothing to worry about.” 

“Dude, did you like, become a poet while you were away?” Dean grinned.  
Cas laughed and stretched his leg out to playfully kick Dean in the knee. “So what if I did?”

Sam stared at him. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or not now that the man’s got a sense of humor. And if he’s saying that he became a poet, that might mean published works and Sam needs to see that. “Are you saying you did?”

The former angel quickly snapped his head towards the younger brother, almost looking like he forgot he was even in the room. “Um yeah. Yeah, I did.” He shifted his leg back underneath his other one. “I wrote a little something and another wingless buddy of mine had connections and it was put in a book. That is the end of it though. I didn’t make any more. I prefer using my mouth rather than a pen to express myself.”

Both Sam and Dean blurted “Was it put on the internet?” and before Cas could even respond, Sam had his laptop off the bedside table and on his lap, Dean suddenly by his side. He furiously typed ‘Poems by Castiel’ but there weren’t any results that were of use to him. 

“Did you use an alias? What’s the poems title?” Sam asked as he continued searching through the results. 

Cas groaned in response. 

“Come on, buddy. Give me something.” Dean urged, looking up from the screen to watch his friend. 

Again, Cas groaned, but this time saying, “The name I used was… Castiel…. Castiel… Winchester. And the name is… oh god.. it’s… ‘My Lonely Brothers’.” His face was down like he was ashamed. 

Sam could feel Dean freeze and then relax back to normal. “You used our last name for a poem?” he almost sounded a bit glad. 

“Yeah, um, it was the only name I could think of and the lady wanted a first and last, since I only have one… I stole yours. Sorry.” Sam wasn’t paying that much attention anymore since he found the poem and was viciously reading it. 

“Oh, it’s nothing to be sorry about. I understand.” Sam could almost hear the frown on his brothers face, “But what do you mean ‘My Lonely Brothers’?”  
Sam froze. The poem itself was beautiful. Well written and very imaginative. Cas really captured the characters in a certain light like they’re his heroes yet they put themselves far lower than they are. But, it wasn’t his brothers from Heaven he wrote about. It was Sam and Dean. He wrote a poem about how much he admired them and he actually put it so that he was a part of their family. Which should be obvious from the title, but it’s just so surreal to Sam. 

“Dean. Read.” He twisted the laptop on his lap so it was more at an angle his brother could read from. 

When Dean finished his eyes looked confused and a bit sad. He immediately looked at Cas, who was now just staring at them both, and sighed. Sam assumes he’s going to make a bigger deal about this than necessary. Like he might lecture Cas about putting himself on a pedestal or rant to him about family or something really unnecessary. 

Instead, Sam is pleasantly surprised when Dean just sits down and lets out a silent, endearing, “Cas” like the man was a child that needed to be coddled. 

Sam smiles. It’s nice to have the sun go down and have Dean in a good mood. Which sadly reminds Sam of how Cas has not said a single thing about the bruises and he really hopes the guy doesn’t assume anything bad and just thinks they had a bad run in with a demon or monster. 

But now is not the time for saddening thoughts. Sam shakes them away and watches as the two just blissfully stare into each other’s eyes. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you can, leave critiques. I'll only get better if I know what needs improvement.  
> I, in no way whatsoever, own the show Supernatural or the characters mentioned in this work of fiction.


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